When Parrish gave an infinitesimal nod, one of the PZs rose with a belligerent scowl on his face. “What’s with hiring a bunch of cops, anyway? We don’t got any crime here.”
Sarah didn’t…quite…laugh.
Every morning, Gabe would drink coffee and get her rundown of the local gossip. In return, he gave her a verbal police report.
Sarah knew exactly what law enforcement did in this town. “Chief MacNair, would you give us a synopsis of your first week?”
The sarge had taught his boys to be prepared, whether for a fight or a march…or to answer awkward questions.
Nonchalantly, Gabe pulled out the list he’d made and started reading. First, the station’s on-duty hours. The numbers and types of calls he and Baumer had handled—several domestics and assaults, and one attempted sexual assault on a minor, which had pissed him the hell off. They’d covered wildlife problems when the state wildlife troopers couldn’t respond in time—bears and moose to a pack of sled dogs that’d gotten loose.
He elaborated about the various burglaries. Mentioning vandalism even without using their names netted him glares from Knox and Chevy. He went on with traffic violations, motor vehicle accidents, and dealing with medical emergencies until an air ambulance helicopter could arrive.
“Several intoxicated residents were assisted home after a visit to the bar.” Gabe’s frown at Bull made people laugh.
“We’re here to help, people. Even if it makes us late for a town meeting.” He showed the long vivid scratches on the back of his hand and said in a wry voice, “Even if the job is rescuing a kitten from a tree.”
Along with the laughter came a wave of applause.
In truth, returning the kitten to the little girl had topped off a very enjoyable day.
* * *
This being sociable wasn’t all that bad, Audrey thought. And sitting in the back row meant no one was looking at her.
She’d sure been surprised when she’d realized Gabe was leaning against the wall…really near where she sat.
And didn’t that give her a frizzle of excitement?
No, don’t go there. She couldn’t afford to get involved with him, no matter how nice he’d been in teaching her about being in Alaska. Although…nice…isn’t what she’d have called him when he’d started unbuttoning her shirt. Devastatingly dangerous would be a better description.
How did he make her feel like that, beautiful and sexy? And as if her bones had melted. As if she had no willpower of her own. Yet she knew he’d honor any concern she had. He’d also be able to discern if she was truthful with him—and herself—about what she wanted.
It was both scary and heady to be with someone who read her so easily.
Which also meant a person with a fake ID shouldn’t get too close to him. To a cop. She shouldn’t try to have a relationship, not even a friendship, really.
But, oh, it’d been fun to be with him. To learn about Alaska. To simply watch him.
He was amazing in the forest. When he’d checked ahead on the trail, he would silently disappear into the green, and she couldn’t hear him move. Herself, she sounded like a buffalo tromping around.
He noticed and identified the tiniest tracks. Her nose wrinkled. He even knew what animal had left poop on the trail. Bear poop was disgustingly enormous.
After they’d…when Tucker and Zappa had arrived, she’d realized Gabe would never be one of those guys who shouted at football games or got stupid and drunk. Even relaxed and fishing with other men, he’d looked deadly. That dark and dangerous intensity never diminished.
She frowned. Wasn’t it odd that, after Spyros, she could find reassurance in how lethal Gabe was?
Because he’d protect a woman. She smiled. And kittens.
She listened as two citizens requested new streetlights, repairs to the Main Street pavement and sidewalks, and beautification of the downtown. Their requests sounded reasonable, especially fixing the potholes in the street.
She’d noticed most Alaskan small towns had no paved streets at all. Off the main highways, Seward and Sterling, graveled streets were the norm. Rescue should be proud it had something better.
Most of the council members seemed open to the requests, but two were vehemently against spending money. She eyed the nameplates. Reverend Parrish and Joe Kolbeck.
As the argument continued, Sarah’s color rose along with her temper.
Dante put his hand on her arm and said mildly, “I figure us business owners can work together on making the town pretty. However”—his chin rose—“unsafe streets, sidewalks, and lighting might well get us sued, especially from lawsuit-happy Outsiders.”
That got an unhappy buzz.
“Outsiders aren’t the only unhappy ones,” an older woman stated. “I almost broke my neck when I tripped on the crack in front of the post office.”
“Yeah, that’s a bad one,” another person chimed in.
“That sounds like a good compromise. We’ll fix the pavement and sidewalks. We can even spring for the money to fix the streetlights, too.” Uriah grinned. “There are all of eight lights total. For now, the businesses will beautify the place on their own.”
That vote carried.
Other issues were brought up, increasingly petty, and the meeting grew more rancorous. As the voices rose, Audrey shrank in her chair, wishing she were home. But people would notice if she stood up to leave.
Someone touched her arm, and she jumped.
Gabe was down on his haunches beside her. “You look like you need to get out of here,” he murmured.
“But—” She flushed and glanced at all the people in the room.
“They’re busy bickering. Come on.” He rose, pulled her to her feet, and with a firm grip on her arm, guided her out of the room.
To her surprise, he didn’t release her once they were outside the building.
“Thank you, but I can get to my car myself. It’s still light out.” A glance at his unsmiling face told her that protesting was useless.
An ache grew inside. She missed the easy camaraderie of earlier. Before he’d asked her about her past. Eff-it-all, why did he continue to dig for information?
But he was a law enforcement person through and through. Cops probably resented mysteries in the same way she resented a search query that returned incorrect answers. With a silent sigh, she simply walked beside him to her car.
Releasing her arm, he opened the car door. “Drive safely.”
“I will.” She looked up. “Are you going back in?”
“Yep. Attendance is part of the job as someone pointed out earlier today.”
“True enough.” She gave him a half-smile. “At least the issue of police funding is done. You rocked that report.”
The lines in his face eased. “Good to hear.
“Thank you for pulling me out.”
“Julie.” He stood close enough she could feel the heat from his body. Another inch closer, and her breasts would rub on his chest. Her skin felt too tight, as if she’d gotten into clothes a size too small.
Everything inside her wanted those arms around her.
He wanted to know her past. She couldn’t tell him. “No. No more.”
When she edged away, he studied her face for a second and nodded. “All right.” He took his own step back.
Eff-it-all. She slid into the car…and he closed the door.
Letting out a forlorn sigh, she glanced in the rear view mirror. Yes, duty done, he was striding toward the municipal building.
Every woman knew chocolate ice cream would fill her with endorphins and make the world better. Being with Gabe was even better than chocolate ice cream.
She couldn’t.
And from the expression on his face, he wouldn’t try to tempt her further. The knowledge closed her throat and filled her eyes with tears.
Chapter Sixteen
At five on Tuesday afternoon, Gabe crossed the street toward Dante’s Market. He was out of milk and cheese. Be nice to have
a dairy cow or goat, but no. Mako had tried livestock in the past, but it was damn difficult to cougar-proof a cattle-sized pasture.
As he walked into the store, he spotted Dante at the end of one aisle. Since the grocery would close within the next few minutes, Julie had already left.
Biding his time, Gabe had avoided the bar, grocery, and coffee shop for the last two days. Julie liked him. Wanted him. She’d pulled away only because he was too inquisitive for her comfort level.
He chuckled. Considering how curious she was, she should have more sympathy. He picked up a block of cheddar and a quart of milk. Well, he’d give her another day or so to relax before approaching her again.
Frustrating woman. If she’d only bring herself to trust him, he could help with whatever frightened her.
Of course, if she were a serial killer and fleeing the law, they might have a problem. But—he smiled—he knew her now. Julie liked rules and order too much to be a crook. And she was far too tenderhearted to hurt people.
It was odd to miss someone he didn’t really know—but he did. Hell, just a glimpse of her could bring him to a full stop. Maybe because he remembered all too well how her curvy body felt beneath him, how soft her lips were, the velvet of her nipples against his tongue, the way her cunt closed around his dick.
The tiny sounds she made when she came.
Gabe grunted his exasperation because now he had a boner. Dumbass.
He’d sure never figured on entangling himself with a woman when he’d arrived in Rescue. After his divorce during his SEAL days, he’d had a couple of longer relationships. Like the one that’d taken him to Los Angeles. But no woman had truly upset his equilibrium.
But now… Damned if he could get Julie out of his mind.
At the counter, he waited for Dante to make his way to the front.
“How’s it going, Chief?” Dante stepped up to the register and rang up the purchases.
Gabe handed over some money. “Good enough. Been quiet. And you?”
“Fine. Maybe I can liven up your life.” Dante grinned. “Lillian wants you and Caz to come for supper tonight.”
A meal he didn’t have to cook? “Sure. When?”
“Now, boy. Now.” Dante motioned Gabe out of the store, flipped off the lights, and turned the sign on the door to CLOSED.
Gabe grinned as he got into his Jeep. Small town living. Everyone knew he had nothing planned.
He glanced at the grocery sack. Good thing the late May temperature had been cold today; the food would keep for a few hours. A few minutes later, he parked behind Dante’s car. Caz’s SUV pulled in behind.
“I see Dante found you, viejo.” Caz slapped Gabe’s shoulder and followed Dante up to Lillian’s house.
With an easy informality, Dante opened the front door, yelled, “We’re here, woman,” and walked in.
The grocery store owner and the Englishwoman?
Gabe exchanged a glance with Caz.
Caz’s eyes lit…of course. Despite the way Caz went through women, he’d always had a fondness for romance—at least when it came to others.
And hey, best of luck to Dante. He was Mako’s generation and far more sociable than the sarge had been. Gabe rubbed his hand over his jaw. A man like that needed friends. A lover.
Now Gabe, he wasn’t as withdrawn as Mako had been. He liked having a few friends. His brothers. A woman, now and then.
At one time, he wouldn’t have wanted more from a woman, but…now, there was Julie.
Lillian’s home suited the Brit well. Her high-ceilinged living room was filled with antiques, Oriental carpets, tall plants, and stained glass windows.
Dante walked through the room, through a dining area, and into a bright kitchen.
To the right, Lillian was putting a pan of biscuits in the oven.
Biscuits. Gabe’s mouth started to water.
Turning, Lillian smiled a welcome. “Dante, my love.” A quick kiss confirmed Gabe’s suppositions of their relationship. Stepping past Dante, she took his and Caz’s hands. “Welcome, you two.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Caz said smoothly. “Whatever you’re cooking, it smells wonderful.”
“Julie had a successful time fishing, so we’re comparing our favorite trout recipes.” As Lillian spoke, Julie came in the back door with a platter of grilled trout.
Apparently, his avoidance policy had a new expiration date. Gabe couldn’t hide his smile. “Julie.” Or whatever your name is.
Surprised delight flashed in her eyes before wariness appeared. “Gabe.”
As she greeted Dante and Caz more easily, he studied her. The bruise shadows had finally disappeared. She moved more easily. Her silky skin had a light tan, and her cheeks had filled out enough that she no longer looked like she belonged in a Dickens novel.
She got sexier every time he saw her. Dammit. He searched for the manners that he’d acquired from Gramps—sure hadn’t been from Mako. “I see you’ve turned into a good fisherman.”
Her expression brightened. “I’m getting better. Lillian gave me her old gear. Tucker and Zappa invited me along yesterday for more instructions.”
Pretty pitiful to feel envious of her time.
“What bait did you use?” Caz asked.
As she turned to him, Gabe asked Lillian, “What can we do to help?”
“With the cooking?” She moved the trout to a white china platter.
“Yep. I was raised in a no work, no eat regime.”
Lillian laughed. “Yes, that does sound like the sarge.”
“You knew Mako?”
“Over the years, we grew to be good friends.” She smiled. “The winters here are long and cold. It’s pleasant to have a way to keep warm.”
“Huh.” Gabe’d thought Mako had remained a hermit, despite the move to Rescue. It seemed the sarge’d had friends…and friends with benefits, as well.
Gabe frowned. He’d told Julie people weren’t meant to live in solitude. Why had he assumed Mako was an exception?
He’d been wrong, hadn’t he? Mako had made himself part of this town—not as visible as Dante—but considering the type of properties the sarge purchased, he’d known a hell of a lot about the place. And had cared about it.
As Caz went to check the fish still on the grill, and the two women dished up food, Gabe stepped closer to Dante. “Mako discussed Rescue with you and Lillian, didn’t he? How to get the town growing again?”
“Yeah, the three of us and sometimes Uriah and Sarah talked about what we wanted for the town.”
“And the businesses Mako bought?”
Dante moved his shoulders. “Eh, that was his thing. He bought up the old hotel just to help the owner who was moving Outside for some fancy cancer treatment. Then he went kinda crazy.”
That was Mako. The sarge gave everything his all. And yet… “He bought a lot of businesses.”
“Living all those years in that old cabin, he piled up the savings—and said the money was just gathering dust. He wanted to leave you boys something more than piles of green paper.” Dante looked away for a moment. “He wanted the town to have someone trustworthy guarding its future.”
“And he wanted to see his boys building something.” Lillian’s eyes were soft. “He worried that you’d seen too much death. Especially, you, Gabe. And Hawk.”
As grief shook him, Gabe looked away. Dammit, Sarge. “We better get the table set. Where are the plates?”
Lillian pointed to a high cupboard, and he caught the gleam of tears in her eyes.
Julie turned away to wipe her eyes, too. Tenderhearted sweetie.
The mood lightened as everyone worked to get the table set, and Caz carried in the last of the grilled fish.
It was a fine meal.
And the fish was damned good. Gabe grinned at the arguments over which recipe was best. To his mind, both versions were excellent. He jotted down the recipes for his brother. Bull loved collecting new dishes.
“Did you catch more trout than
Tucker?” Dante asked Julie.
She laughed. “Hardly. But I had so much fun, it didn’t matter who caught more. I never realized how satisfying it is to provide food for myself and others.”
Gabe couldn’t help smiling at her. “It is a good feeling.”
“Usually.” Caz gave him a wry look. “Except for the times you don’t succeed.”
Gabe laughed. “Some of us were less effective than others that year.”
“What year?” Julie asked.
“Back when the sarge decided we didn’t take our hunting and fishing seriously enough.”
Dante leaned back in his chair. “Now, a man has to wonder what the ol’ drill sergeant did when his boys gave his hunting lessons less than their best efforts.”
Gabe glanced at his brother. “How many times did we go to bed without supper?”
“Too many,” Caz said sadly.
An outraged red colored Julie’s cheeks. “He didn’t give you food unless you caught it?”
“We always got breakfast and lunch. Supper, though… Well, hunger can focus attention nicely.” Gabe shrugged. “We did all right most of the time.”
“The next year was worse. He doled out only two bullets or two arrows. And wouldn’t let us share our kills.” Caz scowled at Gabe. “You and Hawk ate good. Me and Bull, not so much. Not until we were allowed to set traps and snares.”
“They took your food?” The appalled expression on Julie’s face was truly cute. Tenderhearted and against injustice.
Yeah, he wanted this woman.
“No, no.” Caz’s mouth curved. “Pure skill levels. Gabe can hit anything he aims at, no matter the weapon. With a rifle, Hawk’s even better.”
“Oh,” Julie said. “Of course.”
Gabe shook his head. “I can’t believe you accused me of stealing my baby brother’s food. I thought you liked me. That we were friends.”
“I’m…I’m sorry.” Color rose into her cheeks, and her expression filled with remorse. “I didn’t mean… Of course, we’re friends.”
Caz’s laughter halted her apologies, and she turned.
The traitorous asshole pointed to Gabe. “Be warned, chica. That one can con a person with a perfectly straight face.”
Not a Hero Page 17
